


Every Promise Don't Work Out (You and Me Could Stop This Love Drought)

by wherehopelies



Series: Current WIPs - Corona Mass Publishing Event Wow [1]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Famous, Friends to Lovers to Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, WILL I EVER FINISH THIS?! doubtful, both of them are so smart but they are also so dumb, but here is something to keep u a lil saner as we move forward, but were they ever really enemies??? no, chloe as that meme that's like 'now kiss!!!', silly tags because thats how im coping with this corona thing, the yearning, yep
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:13:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23265262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wherehopelies/pseuds/wherehopelies
Summary: Famous musician and producer Beca Mitchell has had a successful career, but the politics of the music industry have started to wear her down. When her Record of the Year Grammy’s speech goes awry, her PR manager Chloe Beale hires independent songwriter Emily Junk to help Beca find her sound, but the two have a painful past. Will they reconnect and create music they deem worth making again, or will their history cause an irreparable break in their careers and relationships?
Relationships: Emily Junk/Beca Mitchell
Series: Current WIPs - Corona Mass Publishing Event Wow [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1672879
Comments: 13
Kudos: 29





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [moxiemorton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/moxiemorton/gifts), [aca_trash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aca_trash/gifts).



> This is loosely based off of The Newsroom except they are not journalists. But the plot framework is very similar. Title from Miss Beyonce Knowles - Sandcastles/Love Drought.
> 
> @moxiemorton convinced me to post this as a "first chapter". I started this before Bemily Week 2020, added a little more for Day 2 - Famous... then didn't finish it. But I've received a burst of comments and kudos since this whole pandemic began and decided, hey fuck it im just gonna post some WIPs to give us all something else to think about. Will I add to them or finish them? Who knows, but here's something. Stay well out there, friends. <3

Bored.

It was the last thing she should feel at the Grammy’s, surrounded by an excess of talent and personality.

And yet. Here she was. Bored and numb.

Everyone was dressed in the season’s best fashion statements, a glittering of gold and white and black all around. Laughter rang throughout the building, the consequence of some joke told by the host. Who was it again? Chloe had told her a million times, but she never could get these actor’s names down. She hadn’t really heard the joke anyway. Everything seemed to be happening at a distance.

Maybe it was because this whole event was tired. She’d been in attendance for almost a decade now and maybe it had just lost its shine. It was always the same. The outfits evolved, the names changed, the jokes were just a little different. But the attitudes were the same. The people, some new but many old, acted the same, looked the same. 

The industry was supposed to be ever-evolving, but Beca knew better. Everyone wanted to be different, to make music history, to be a revolutionary, but at the end of the day it was all about the same thing.

Popularity.

With the masses, the industry. And at this event, the Recording Academy. 

All of that determined success.

And Beca was massively successful.

So why did she feel so bored?

Music swelled and an elbow nudged her.

“Sit up,” Chloe hissed. “You’re on.”

Beca straightened her back, blinking herself back into focus. On stage, Kristen Bell and one of those Avengers actors were doing the opening comments for the category, the big one, just one of the few Beca was up for. 

Record of the Year.

She’d won it before, but she wouldn’t win it this year. No, this year the winner would be Cynthia Rose. Beca had said as much on the red carpet outside, expressing her gratefulness but also her certainty that the winner would be the industry’s newest rising star. And it would be well-deserved. For all Beca’s cynicism about popularity and success, Cynthia Rose managed to create a sound that was fresh, that was unique, that was lyrically beautiful and musically impressive. 

Beca had thought, when she’d first heard it, that the track would be a shoe-in for a nomination, and she was right. The other songs in the category, including Beca’s own, all sounded like the over-saturated funky mainstream bops they all loved to criticize in private but that they couldn’t stop releasing.

CR’s though, it was different. And that’s why it was going to win.

“And the winner goes to,” Kristen Bell paused for dramatic effect. “‘From the Sidelines’ - Beca Mitchell!”

Beca blinked as the place erupted into cheers. Numbly, on auto-pilot, she stood from her chair. Chloe’s arms circled around her, squeezing tight. Beca thought Chloe was saying something, but she heard the words as a low buzz, an unintelligible murmur.

Dizzy. 

She felt dizzy as she walked down the aisle, up the stairs. Hugged Kristen Bell. She smelled nice.

Then there was the statue, cold and heavy in her hand. The mic loomed in front of her. She stepped toward it.

“Um. Wow.” A laugh from the audience. Beca had prepared a speech, but had it started with  _ um wow _ ? She couldn’t remember. “I just want to say thank you to everyone at the Academy. Thank you to my team, Chloe, Stacie, Jesse, Aubrey. You all know who you are. There were so many amazing nominees this year, I mean…” She gestured toward the crowd.

Toward Cynthia Rose, who was smiling at her stoically, while the person next to her squeezed her hand. Beca inhaled sharply, squinting at the familiar face, which looked up at her with a mixture of pride and… disappointment. Haunting disappointment. 

The dark hair, the full cheeks, the deep eyes.

They were so familiar but it couldn’t be, could it?

Beca froze. She could feel the gaze of the entire crowd but she couldn’t see them. She suddenly felt nauseous. She suddenly felt shame. She felt angry. She felt…  _ something _ .

She tried to soldier on.

“And mostly, I want to thank the fans.” Sweat beaded on her forehead and the crowd in front of her grew fuzzier. She had the disorienting sensation that she was looking toward the end of a very long tunnel. “Yeah, I want to thank the fans. Without you guys, I wouldn’t be here.” 

She was speaking. She was speaking and it was getting away from her. An anger boiled in her chest, shame swirled in her stomach. She could barely breathe.

Then the music was playing her off, and she was stepping into the back and --

“Beca? Beca, what the  _ hell _ ?”

Like from the bottom of a very deep ocean, Beca emerged, gasping in a breath. Was she having a panic attack?

Chloe gripped her arm and Beca looked up with wide eyes, fingers still clenched around the statue.

“Uh.”

“Babe, what the hell were you  _ thinking _ ?”

Beca frowned, slumping under the freaked-out stare of her best friend. “I know this sounds crazy, Chlo, but I have no idea what I just said up there. I completely blacked out.”

Chloe’s face paled. “Shit.”

//

Chloe pulled her sweater a little tighter around her as she stepped into the cafe. They had the AC on blast despite the cooler temperatures outside. 

She turned her head, scanning the tables until she found who she was looking for. A girl with long brown hair, in jeans and a cute collared button up. She took a deep breath and made her way to the table.

“Emily Junk?”

The girl looked up, sudden and confused. “Uh. Yeah…?”

“Oh,” Chloe smiled. “I recognize you. We met once. Chloe Beale.”

Recognition bloomed in Emily’s eyes. “Oh. Yeah, hi, how are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you. Do you mind if I…?” She gestured toward the chair across from Emily and sat down when Emily shook her head. “I called you and got your assistant. She said you might be here.”

Emily gave her a curious look. Not suspicious. Just curious. “Yeah, I like to write here. It has a good atmosphere.”

“Working on anything good?”

Emily chuckled. “Not specifically. I’m currently in-between gigs. The life of a freelancer.”

Chloe nearly beamed, but she managed to keep it cool. “That’s exactly what I wanted to talk to you about. I have a job offer for you.”

Emily blinked. “A job offer?”

“Yep.” Chloe couldn’t help the grin that crept through. “A full album, writing credit with a major studio, creative input, the whole shebang.”

Emily hesitated. “What’s the catch?”

“No catch. You write the songs, Beca produces them, we’ve got a number one album on our hands.”

“Beca… Mitchell?” Emily froze as she realized -- or remembered -- who Chloe worked for.

“The one and only.” Emily was staring at her, her eyes wide and glassy. Chloe softened. “I know there’s a lot of bad press right now after the Grammy’s, but it’ll pass. It always does.”

Emily came back to herself and her lips twitched. “Oh. It was a little tactless but I… agreed with what she said.”

Chloe leaned forward, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “So did I.”

“I worked with Cynthia Rose on that track.”

“I know.”

Emily nodded. “Beca’s music isn’t really… I’m sorry Chloe, I have to be honest. I don’t really do what Beca does. The thick beats, bringing in a powerhouse featured singer for the chorus, that’s not my style, so I’m not sure I’m the right person for the job.”

Chloe tilted her head, keeping her voice soft. “On the contrary, I think you’re the only person for the job.”

Emily frowned. “How do you figure?”

“Between you and me, I don’t think Beca’s been happy with what she’s been doing for a long time.” Chloe leaned back in her chair, thinking. “Her speech at the Grammy’s just affirmed that. Everything has gotten away from her. She’s become obsessed with the fans’ opinion, whether people are buying the songs. And I know that’s just a consequence of being with a bigger label, among other things. There’s pressure and contracts and expectations.” She meets Emily’s eyes. “But she’s bored. She’s not creatively stimulated and I think she just needs the right person to remind her what she’s really capable of. And I think that person is you.”

Emily had been looking at her throughout her speech, but she turned away then. She sighed, taking a long time to answer. “I think I’m exactly the wrong person. Beca and I… We have history.”

“I know.”

“It didn’t end well.”

Chloe offered a gentle smile. “I know that, too.”

Emily’s eyes snapped back to hers. “Then you know she doesn’t want to see me. She hasn’t returned my calls or messages in years. She doesn’t care about what I have to say, about her music or anything else.”

“I think…” Chloe said slowly. “That may be the only real thing she’s ever actually cared about.”

Emily leaned back in her chair, mirroring Chloe, mouth hanging open. “You don’t want me for this despite my history with Beca, you want me  _ because _ of it.”

Chloe shrugged. “History can create an interesting chemistry. And anyway, I’ve heard her old demos, the ones you guys did together. Even after all this time, it’s still some of her best work. And you’ve written hits for a few superstars, but how much of it have you meant? You’re holding back, I can tell.”

Emily scrunched her nose in disbelief. “No offense, Chloe, but you don't really know me.”

“None taken, but I think I do. And even if I don’t, well.” Chloe raised her eyebrows. “I know Beca. And I know it’s time for a change, and I know that change is you. So take it or leave it, but do you really want to freelance one-hit-wonders for the rest of your life or do you want to do something important?”

Chloe gave her a last lingering look. Then she got up from the table, tossing her business card on Emily’s open notebook. “Sorry to bother you, but I’m on a mission here, Emily. I just want to see Beca at her best, and despite everything, I think you do, too.”

She left then, and in the reflection of the glass door, she could see Emily staring after her until she stepped outside into the chill air.

//

_ “I want to thank the fans. Without you guys, I wouldn’t be here. So thank you. Yeah, actually… you know what. Thank you. Thank you for spending your money and time on the absolute garbage pop songs this industry produces every year. I don’t blame you for not recognizing real talent when it blasts out of your overpriced speakers because you’re just a prop for an industry driven by corporate greed and ratings, so yeah, thank you for being as predictable and easily manipulated as they all expect you to be. Cynthia Rose, dude, you’re the one who deserves this award. I’m sorry they didn’t recognize that. Anyway. Goodnight and see you next year.” _

//

Beca clicked the arrow to replay the video as it came to an end.

She was numb to it now, but that was probably because it was the twenty-second time she’s watched it.

God, how she could have said that? Out loud? On camera and at the biggest music industry event of the year?

She could still see it when she closed her eyes. The crowd in front of her. Cynthia Rose smiling up at her. And  _ her _ . That Emily lookalike. Because it couldn’t have been the real Emily, could it have been? Beca would have known she’d be there. She would have heard something.

But  _ how _ ? Doubt crept in every time. If Emily wasn’t singing her own stuff, if she was just writing, a small freelancer like the smaller studios used… It’s not like she’d have told Beca herself, not after four years of Beca ignoring her texts, her calls, her emails.

Beca heaved a shuddering breath and shut her eyes, trying to halt those thoughts before they went any further. She didn’t want to think about it, which was why she pressed replay, again and again on the video. Because if she went down that thought spiral, she may never come out. 

And she couldn’t afford to do that again. Couldn’t afford to check out, to shut down. She was better now. She was  _ successful _ , she was known, she was doing what she always wanted to do.

And  _ maybe _ it was because of what happened, but maybe it  _ wasn’t _ . 

She just didn’t know which of those options scared her the most.

So she pressed play, watched herself walk up on stage, listened to those horrible words come out of her mouth.

Again and again and again.

//

The music swelled in her chest, a memory, a feeling, a wish. She didn’t know whether to cry or laugh.

It was as good as she remembered, but she mostly didn’t remember, because she hadn’t listened to it in over six years, the music she made with Beca. 

The music they made together. In that crazy, beautiful, heartbreaking time.

Emily’s heart clenched to think of it. To think of what she did.

But God, the music. 

She knew it was crazy, that Chloe didn’t know her, that she couldn’t possibly have any insight into what was best for Beca when it came to Emily, because Chloe wasn’t there. So she knew it was crazy… but the thought crept in anyway. Could Chloe be right?

Emily adjusted the headphones on her ears and hit the back button, replaying the track. A stone sunk in her chest, weighted with hope and disappointment and the crazy thought that maybe Chloe was on to something.

Emily listened to their never-released EP on repeat, her chest constricting and releasing more and more every listen.

At the end of the fifth time, she made a snap decision. She pulled the headphones from around her ears, grabbed Chloe’s business card off the coffee table, and punched the numbers into her phone.

“ _ Chloe Beale speaking _ .”

“Chloe? It’s Emily. Emily Junk. I’ll do it. I’ll take the job.”


	2. Chapter 2

Beca sighed as she walked down the hall, scrolling through her Twitter feed as she went. Stacie had tried to get her to stay off for a few weeks, but it had been a losing battle. Every spare second, she found herself opening the app, looking at the new stuff and rereading the old. Everyone had an opinion about what she’d said up on that stage, and although many people had said she’d been rude, attention-seeking, and downright unprofessional, some people had supported her. Especially Cynthia Rose’s fans. Everyday there was some new side to the argument and she knew she shouldn’t care, that she should let it be. 

But she couldn’t stop looking. 

So that’s what she was doing when she walked down the hall that morning and why she didn’t notice the figure that darted back around the corner as she passed, as if avoiding being seen.

Beca stepped into Chloe’s office, completely unaware. “So what’s this thing you need to tell me that’s so important it couldn’t wait until after the meeting?”

“Good morning to you, too. Why don’t you sit down?”

Beca finally looked up from her phone when Chloe spoke and nearly jumped out of her skin. “What’s  _ she _ doing here?”

Aubrey sniffed from her chair across from Chloe’s desk, but didn’t dignify Beca with a response.

Chloe, on the other hand, just smiled and gestured toward the chair next to Aubrey. Beca reluctantly plopped down in it.

“Well then. Now that we’re all here.” Chloe leaned back in her chair, twirling her pen around her fingers and staring at Beca thoughtfully. Beca felt a rising discomfort in her chest at how long it was taking Chloe to get to the point. “As you know, Beca, we’re about to start work on your next album.”

Beca raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I’m aware. The meeting for it starts in ten minutes.”

“Mm. Well, then you’re also probably aware that when your contract was last renewed, you were given full creative control over the final product.”

Beca frowned, not sure where Chloe was going with this. “Yeah, okay…”

Chloe gave her a soft smile. “In exchange for that amendment, you’ll remember that the studio, meaning myself as your representative, would have control over the creative team.”

“Yeah,” Beca shrugged. “I’m fine with the team.”

“Right. Just wanted to remind you of that as we move forward.” Chloe twirled her pen a few more times, just watching her. “I’ve added someone new.”

Beca paused. “Okay. You do that every other month and we’ve never had a special meeting with  _ legal _ about it… Chloe what’s going on?”

“Something great.” Chloe threw the pen on the desk and leaned forward with a suspiciously wide smile. “This is just a precaution to avoid… an unwanted scene in, say, the hallway or the boardroom where there are people I don’t exactly trust to keep the things that happen in this office private.”

“Dude, you’re freaking me out.”

Chloe delicately slid a file folder across the desk. Beca opened it --

And froze. 

She could see a whole stack of papers, several USB drives, and a picture clipped to the top right corner, but it was all an immediate blur as her eyes glued onto a name typed in large block letters across the top.

She shot out of her chair. “Chloe.”

“Sit down, Beca.”

“You didn’t fucking do this.”

“I absolutely did.”

Beca whirled around, her heart beating way too fast, anger and hurt beating away in her chest. “What the  _ fuck _ , dude?”

“Beca.”

“You’re supposed to be my friend. What the  _ fuck _ ?”

“You’re my best friend in the whole world, but you know there’s a time when we have to draw a line here.” 

Beca could see the pout in Chloe’s eyes even if it wasn’t on her face, but she didn’t care. She whirled on Aubrey. “Can she really do this?”

“I’m here for the sole purpose to say that she can.” Aubrey’s entire posture screamed superiority. And boredom. “And now that I have, may I leave to prep for this meeting? Or must I stick around for Beca’s tantrum?”

Chloe waved her off and Beca scowled. Once Aubrey was out of the office, Beca rounded on Chloe.

“Why on Earth did you think this was a good idea? What did I ever do to you? Seriously, what the fuck?”

Chloe studied her for a moment. “You know she’s been in New York for three years. She’s written a dozen hits, but she has barely anything to show for it. She’s still freelancing, and as far as I can tell, not making nearly as much as she’s worth.”

Beca threw her hands up. “That’s not surprising. She’s always been undervalued, but I don’t see what the fuck that has to do with me.”

“You know she wrote that song with Cynthia Rose, right?”

Beca’s entire being screeched to a halt. She hadn’t been crazy that night at the Grammy’s then. “So what?”

“So, is that not what your whole speech was about?”

Beca scoffed. “Oh, we’re quoting that now? Because everyone’s been trying to brush it under the rug since it happened.”

“Not me,” Chloe shrugged. “I agreed with what you said. Sure, it was a little abrasive, but I liked it. I haven’t seen you that fired up in a long time. And I think that’s why you need Emily.”

Beca flinched at the name.

“Seriously, Bec.” Chloe looked at her curiously. “I mean, how long has it been?”

Beca gritted her teeth. She tried to breathe. Looked back at Chloe. “Six years.”

“Coincidentally, I think that’s the last time you actually liked the music you make.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

And with that she stormed from the room.

//

Emily sat in the boardroom, goosebumps rising on her arms from the chill of the air conditioning. At least she was pretending it was the air conditioning and not from the nerves buzzing in her stomach.

She tried not to show it, but she felt very foolish as she sat there with her spiral notebook in front of her, as the few other people that were at the table with her were all either typing into their laptop or scrolling down their phones. 

As the minutes ticked by, past the time their meeting was supposed to start, Emily found herself staring at the people around the table. There was the man across from her, dark haired and kind-eyed, who was slouched in his chair and watching a video through a pair of earbuds . There was the serious blonde, tapping furiously at her email. The guy pacing near the door and muttering something into his phone. And the gorgeous girl a few seats down who was scrolling through her social media feed. As Emily glanced at her, she looked up and appraised Emily from head to toe. 

Emily smiled, trying to put some warmth behind it. “Is she usually this late?”

“Nah,” the man across the table said, not looking up from his video. “She’s in a meeting with her Content Manager.”

“Oh.”

“About that,” interjected the blonde woman. “We should all be prepared for what happens when she comes in here.”

A realization suddenly dawned on Emily. “That meeting is about me, isn’t it?”

The blonde woman looked at her, but said nothing.

“I’m guessing Chloe didn’t tell her about me until right this moment and that’s… why she’s late. Yeah.” Emily put a hand to her forehead, trying to breathe. “Cool. Great.”

“She won’t stay mad for long,” the other girl said, shooting Emily a wink. “Especially when she sees how cute you are.”

Emily could only hold back a groan.

“Leave her alone, Stacie,” the blonde girl muttered, nose still buried in her email.

“I think this new album should have a grunge aesthetic,” said the man with the laptop, completely ignoring the previous topic of conversation. He looked up when there was no response and smiled at Emily. “I’m Jesse, by the way. Beca’s creative designer and channel strategist.” Emily just blinked and he laughed. “I’m the YouTube and video guy.”

“Oh.” Emily tried to smile. “Emily.”

Jesse beamed at her. “Awesome. That’s Stacie, PR. Bumper, A&R and analytics. And Aubrey, legal. Chloe and Beca should be here soon.”

The door opened as if on cue and all the breath rushed from Emily’s lungs.

Beca stared at her, expression completely unreadable. It hadn’t been long since Emily had seen Beca -- on the Grammy’s stage, in the hall twenty minutes ago -- but it had been a long time since Beca had seen her, and Emily had to force herself to not look away.

“Hey,” she managed to say.

“Can I speak with you? Privately.” The evenness in Beca’s tone was just a bit too even to be convincing and Emily braced herself as she got up and followed Beca out of the room and down the hall. Beca opened a door and gestured for Emily to walk inside. She closed the door behind them.

They were in an empty conference room, much bigger than the one they just left, but they stood near the door, just a few feet apart. Emily hadn’t been this close to Beca in years. Beca stared at her and she searched her brain for something to say that might win Beca over. 

“It’s good to see you.” Beca continued to say nothing and Emily could feel the word vomit coming up. “I tried to get a hold of you the past couple of days, but your assistant said you were taking some time off. And I mean, I tried to contact you a lot the past few years, Bec. I don’t know if you got my messages.”

“I got them.”

“Right.” Emily had forgotten how intense Beca’s expression could be. “You never responded.”

“I never listened to them.”

It hurt, but Emily couldn’t say she didn’t expect that. “I’ve listened to your stuff. I’m really proud of how much you’ve done, Bec.”

Beca’s stony expression flashed with anger. “Save it. You do  _ not _ get to be proud of me anymore, okay?”

Emily let herself look at Beca for a moment. She took in the closed-off stance, the angry tightening in her jaw. The bags under her eyes. The slumping of her shoulders. 

“When Chloe asked me to do this, I didn’t know she was going to blindside you. I wouldn’t have agreed if I knew she hadn’t told you. I thought you were okay with it.”

“Well, I’m not.” Beca twisted her lips, then sighed. “But apparently that’s irrelevant. So here’s what’s gonna happen. You can give your two cents on the writing, but in the end, I have the final say of what makes the album and what doesn’t. If you don’t like it, then too damn bad.”

Emily tilted her head to the side, waiting. “Is that it?”

“Don’t contact me out of work. We’re not friends.”

“Fine.” 

They stared at each other and Emily got the sense Beca wanted her to leave the boardroom first. She turned, but stopped with her hand on the doorknob.

“You know,” she said, just going for it. It wasn’t like she had a lot to lose. “I liked what you said on that stage. It reminded me of a person I used to know… someone who never followed the crowd or cared what people thought. Someone who just wanted to make music that made people feel something. Someone who would’ve used fame and success to change this industry to something that’s driven by the music, not money or popularity.”

Beca rolled her eyes. “That’s a really high horse you’re on. You don’t get to have fame and success in this profession by not caring about popularity.”

“I don’t believe that. And if what you said on that stage is true, neither do you.”

Beca’s scowl deepened. “You don’t know me anymore.”

“Fine, maybe I don’t, but so what?” Emily thought maybe this conversation had been several years in the making and she turned so she was facing Beca fully again. “You can tell me all you want that you don’t miss making the kind of music  _ we _ made together, but you’re not convincing anyone. So maybe for one minute just put down the baggage and think about what you have the opportunity to do. You just won Record of the Year. You’re one of the biggest names in the business right now. So take that and  _ do _ something. Flip it on its head. Change the game. If anyone can, it’s you.”

“Look, that’s a nice idealistic, little utopia you’re living in, but you saw that team in there,” Beca huffed. “I have to work with all of them and they all have their own ideas of what I can and should do. It’s not as simple as it was when we were making music out of college with nothing to lose.”

“Well,” Emily said, soft but resolute. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? To take your talent and passion and give it direction. Put whatever happened between us down for the moment because I think we could make something great. We have before.”

Beca had crossed her arms in defiance, but she was looking at Emily with uncertainty. She chewed on her lower lip, thinking. 

She opened her mouth to respond, but the door opened and one of the guys from Beca’s team stuck his head in.

“Hate to interrupt this girl talk, but some of us have other things on the itinerary today.”

Beca’s face hardened back up. “Having your mom do your laundry doesn’t count.”

“Oh, blow me, Mitchell.”

“Say that again in front of Emily and I will report you to HR for harassment, Bumper, I swear to fucking God. Get the hell out of here.”

The guy held up his hands and backed out of the room, but Chloe took his place in the doorway. 

“Everything alright?” 

She and Beca stared each other down, Emily’s gaze flitting between them. Finally Beca sighed. “Everything’s fine.”

“Did we talk it out, then?”

“Dude. None of your business. Let’s just get this shit over with.”

And with that, she stormed from the room.

“Hm,” Chloe murmured to Emily as they walked back toward the smaller boardroom. “Whatever you said to her, I think it worked.”

Emily gaped in disbelief. “How do you figure? I don’t think she bought any of it.”

“Oh, that’s just what she wants you to think,” Chloe grinned at her. “But it’s pretty clear she drank that shit up with a straw.”

**Author's Note:**

> emilyjunk.tumblr.com as always. more for this au at emilyjunk.tumblr.com/tagged/nrau


End file.
